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CHAPTER 36

EMERY

Shannon comes over for lunch the last day of the road trip. We’ve narrowed in on a tea party menu for the baby shower, but we both want there to be some surprises that really blow people away.

I’m in the middle of enthusiastically explaining how silken tofu makes an amazing dessert base for lime and yuzu when my phone lights up with an unexpected email notification—from Montrose Atelier Culinare, the school I’m going to in Switzerland.

Or… the school I was going to go to, I realize, when I tap into it.

My voice trails off as I start to read the message.

It is with sincere regret that we write to inform you that the upcoming July cohort of the Montrose Atelier Culinare program has been postponed due to unforeseen environmental damage to our facilities. A recent mudslide caused significant structural impact to our kitchens and lodging quarters, and for the safety of our students and faculty, we will be unable to proceed with the summer session as planned.

We understand this is unexpected news, and we want to acknowledge the time and dedication you've already invested in preparing for this program.

Our team has been working diligently to protect your opportunity for advanced culinary training. We have secured an alternate placement through our partner institution in New York City, but the enrolment dates would be…

“Sorry,” I say, my voice distant. “I just need to read the rest of this email.”

We understand that this disruption may cause disappointment or uncertainty. If you'd prefer to defer your Montrose placement, we will reserve your spot without penalty.

My heart immediately knows it wants to do that. Just…defer. Put it off until next year. I can go to Switzerland next year, and…

And what?

Spend a year playing house and secret orgasms?

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” Shannon says.

I have. It’s the Ghost of Emery Past, who was ready to fall in love with Alexei at the first hot press of his mouth between my legs.

“My culinary institute emailed,” I say numbly.

I explain the gist of the email. And I get choked up when I repeat the option they’ve given me. “I’m sorry. I don’t know why I’m so upset.”

She shifts sideways in her chair and rubs my back. “You had a plan, and it’s been derailed. I would be upset, too.”

I wipe my eye, furious that tears are trying to get involved here. There’s no reason to cry . That’s ridiculous. “Look at me. This is nothing. It’s fine. I just need to make a decision.”

“Do you need to make it today?”

My thumb twitches as I scroll through the email. “No. I’ve got a few days.”

“Take that time, then.”

I nod. “Yeah.”

“Do you want to talk it out?”

How do I explain that since Switzerland was a done deal, and on the other side of the playoffs, I’d pushed it out of my mind?

But now this email has thrown me for a loop.

You have a choice, Emery Granger.

I don’t want a new choice. I want the old choice that I already made. I want the strength of that conviction.

“I don’t know what the right thing to do is here.” My voice sounds raw. I feel raw. “I can’t go to New York. It’s too soon.”

“Why is it too soon?”

I lift my head in surprise.

Shannon is looking at me so carefully, like she’s afraid I might break.

I won’t break. I’m fine.

“Alexei needs me until the end of playoffs.”

“What do you need?”

“I—” I drag in a breath. “No, I know, but Inessa…”

The thought of abruptly disappearing from her life steals my breath.

“If I were in your shoes, what would you tell me?” Her words sound carefully chosen. “And I don’t mean the advice you’d give if you were trying to be polite or keep the peace. I mean the thing you would tell me because you really love me and want me to be happy.”

That lands harder than I expect. I swallow against a sob that wants to leak out around the lump in my throat. “Oh, Shannon. I do love you.”

“Then give me good advice. I have a plan, and conditions have changed. What would you tell someone who has a big, beautiful dream, and a heart that is trying to hold all the space for someone else’s life at the same time?”